


I’ve Got A Sweet Tooth (And You’re Made Of Sugar)

by kogaylance



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 10k, Baking, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, I promise, M/M, Slow Burn, baking au, they’re idiots that are gonna fall in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-06-24 03:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19715224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kogaylance/pseuds/kogaylance
Summary: When Bucky landed a spot on The Great American Baking Show, he thought his biggest problem would be competing against 12 of the most skilled bakers in the country for the grand prize of 100,000 dollars.He did NOT think it was going to be the handsome asshole with the baby blue eyes and a smile that put the sun to shame.





	1. Chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> I love these two idiots and I’ve been writing this so don’t have to think about endgame
> 
> Enjoy!

Bucky takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and sighs. He runs his hand through his hair as he paces in front of the lounging area. He hadn’t expected to pass the initial audition, he definitely hadn’t expected to pass the in person audition, and he _most certainly_ did not expect to end up here, on the show he and Becca had been watching since they were kids.

He never thought he would end up on The Great American Baking show.

Yet here he was, after a few drinks and a dare later, he’d submitted his audition form to the show’s website, not expecting to even get a reply back.

He had, and now he was standing in the lobby of Stark Baking Industries where he would be staying every weekend for the next 14 weeks.

He felt like this was some sort of ridiculous dream he would wake up from in any minute, tell Becca about later, then they would laugh at the absurdity of it. But he never jolted out of bed to wake in the bedroom he had been in hours earlier. It surprised him because one thing was for sure, _James Buchanan Barnes was NOT tv show material._

He was a retired veteran with a prosthetic arm who was a little bit more passionate about baking than your average guy, that was it. His cakes weren’t perfect, not flawless by any means. He didn’t have the most attractive personality, often guilty of being in a sour, offset mood. He guesses maybe, if put some effort in, he could be good looking (which Becca says he definitely _is_ , not that Bucky believes much of it.)

Yet despite all of it, his confections had been hand picked by Tony Stark himself to be brought into this years season. It was surreal, really. Tony Stark, the owner and proud founder of Stark Baking Industries, one of the most skilled bakers internationally, and more importantly, the man who would be the one judging his goods every week.

He gives up the pacing and exchanges it for sitting in one of the too-comfortable couches in the lobby to bounce his leg up and down in a fit of nerves. They were starting filming today, after all the other competitors got here, they would be given keycards to their own rooms (courtesy of Tony Stark), leave their belongings for the weekend, and head down to where they would be filming the show.

It was more stressful than exciting, if Bucky was being honest.

Counting himself, only eight of the twelve contestants had arrived. A tall woman with bright red hair and pale skin who was wearing all black, and looked as if she could kill him withher eyes. A black man who was wearing a plain army green shirt, to which Bucky gave a single nod to in understanding when he had first walked in. A short, blonde man with an undercut who looked far, far too excited to be here. A very young, very nervous kid who couldn’t be more than 18, and seemed to be talking the red haired woman’s ear off, completely unaware of her murderous gaze. A guy with glasses who looked like he was off to a meeting rather than a bake off. To their side was a _very_ handsome man with dirty blonde long, shoulder length hair and muscles that had to have come from the gods themselves.

Overall, Bucky thought, they were already shaping up to be a very odd group. He supposed, however, that he didn’t look any more normal than the rest of them. He had a metal prosthetic that more often than not weighed him down, so his left shoulder permanently settled a bit lower than his right (not that it was noticeable, not unless you were really looking for it). His hair was messy and sat at shoulder length, because he’d refused to cut it after finishing his last tour and heading home, wanting to grow it out after having a buzz cut for so long. He realized then, that he probably looked a bit scary, with the permanent bags under his eyes and the whole “metal arm attached to him” thing. If he was ranking his fellow contestants on scare factor he’d say he’d come in second right after the red head.

Bucky let himself rest his head on the palm of his metal hand while he waited for the rest of the contestants to arrive. He knew it had to be around another 30 minutes before everyone got there and they could begin their journey to the show’s kitchen.

He let his eyes fall closed for a moment, and if he dozed off then well, nobody seemed to mind.

-

Steve Rogers was running late. He’d woken up to his alarm blaring in his ears, alerting him that yes, it had been ringing for the past 45 minutes, and yes he had about 15 minutes before he was supposed it be at the meeting area for all the contestants. Needless to say, he’d woken up in a panic and scrambled out of bed, getting ready in 5 minutes before practically running out the door, barely stopping to check if he looked presentable enough, and if he had his keys.

In record time he had flagged down a taxi and for the first time that morning, tried to calm his nerves a bit. He figured he’d make it with about 3 minutes before they got started.

It’s not like he’d _planned_ on running late, it was just that his nerves combined with the vat of coffee he’d had last night had kept him up til the late hour of 3 in the morning (he supposed the last bit might have been his fault, but he wasn’t about to admit that to himself).

Steve took a minute to catch his breath. He was finally doing it. The thing he’d been working towards for months was finally paying off. His first day on The Great American Baking Show.

After his mother’s passing, Steve had thrown himself into his baking, as a desperate attempt to keep his spirits up and remain optimistic for his own sanity. She’d been all he had, and for a while, all he could bake were her favorite recipes, the sugar cookies she had taught him to make as a young child, the apple pie he knew how to make blindfolded, all because his mother had made it every Sunday. Even when they didn’t always have enough money to spare, she’d scrap up the ingredients somehow, and together little Steve and Sarah Rogers would make sticky sweet apple pie to share with their neighbors,

When Sarah had died, Steve refused to let the pie die with her.

He worked on perfecting it, testing how long or how little he should caramelize the apple slices, how much butter to add to the crust to make it _just right_ , how many cups of sugars were a _tad_ too much, and how much was too little.

Out of his grief blossomed the passion for Baking he hadn’t thought about since he was a kid, and before he could blink he was teaching himself how to perfect brownies, cakes, cream puffs, cookies— whatever he had wanted. He’d spent the last couple months expanding his abilities for the show. Combining strange and interesting flavors to see what worked and what didn’t. It certainly helped that he had a keen sense of taste (as his mother had once said to him) and that he more than anything, _loved it_.

He loved baking almost as much as he loved his mother.

In a way, it had saved him, his bakes. He didn’t feel as lost as he once had, and his relentless baking had landed him a job at a local bakery in town. It might not make enough for any pocket money, but it paid the bills, and three times a week they let him make a pastry of his choice to put up as the special for the day.

It was good for him, he knew he could be worse off.

Now his baking was bringing him here, to one of the more pretentious competitions in the country,

_“You’re real good at this Steve”, Peggy, his boss Had told him one night before closing up, “listen I here they’re gonna be filming another season of AGBO soon and they’re looking for contestants, why don’t you just try it, I mean, it’s worth a shot right?”_

It most certainly had been, He had to admit it was surprising to get a call back on his primary audition. And then before he knew it was getting the email that told him that he Steven Grant Rogers, had what it took to be on The Great American Baking Show.

It was surreal, it was exciting, and it was what Steve had been needing to turn his life around.

He knew there would be money if he won, money he needed, 100,000 dollars on the line.

It would be more than enough to pay the bills and kickstart him into opening his own bakery.

It was really, what he’d been working towards for so long. He’d made up his mind two months short of last year, that it would be awfully nice to open his own bakery.

He loved working with Peggy, but he also loved the feeling of being independent, of knowing he _could_ take care of himself, that he could care for his own business. He was sick his entire childhood, in and out of his hospitals and being constantly babied and cared for. Back then He’d been smaller, skinnier, more fragile, he’d hated it.

He was healthier now, had been for a while, and was more than ready to start a new path in life.

_You always hit the ground runnin’ Steven,_ his mother had told him once, on a cold winter night after he’d wanted nothing more than to go out and play the second he’d recovered from a bad case of pneumonia, _it’s like you never learned the meaning of walking before you can run,_

The taxi coming to a stop pulled him out of his thoughts, and when he looked out the window, he could see it, the entry to Stark Baking Industries, a tall, sleek building that towered over the rest of the buildings surrounding it, with a large A centered at the top of the building.

Steve gulped and got out of the car. He hurried once he snapped out of his trance. He had about a minute before the scheduled start time.

Steve stopped himself in front of the big glass front doors.

_His mother would be proud._

He took a deep breath, and opened the door.

-

Bucky stood with the others.

He was also very pleased to say that he was no longer the second scariest person in the room. Now, he’d bumped himself down to a solid 3rd place.

He could almost be one of the approachable ones.

He’d snapped out of his nap 5 minutes ago, the sudden commotion in the room bringing him back from his senseless sleep. He looked around and saw new faces mixed in with the ones of the contestants he’d grown familiar with before dozing off.

He studied the new contestants that had gotten there while he was sleeping, a tall man dressed in an emerald green shirt that looked like it could have cost a whole months worth of rent, who sported shoulder length slick black hair. He appeared to be in an increasingly irritating conversation with the man with the dirty blonde hair from earlier. An unhappy looking old man whose sweater was absolutely _hideous._ A man who looked mildly interested in whatever the receptionist was telling him about Stark Baking Industries, and another one of the scariest people Bucky had ever seen. And Bucky _knew_ scary.

This guy looked to be around Bucky’s age had a burn mark that covered nearly his entire left eye socket, jet black hair that had been styled into a quiff (which Bucky thought made the guy look like a total douchebag, and if he was honest, the guy probably was), and a mean look that put the red head’s to shame,

If Bucky had thought they had looked like an odd bunch at the beginning, they looked flat out _bizarre_ now.

Bucky got up from his too-comfortable seat on the couch and joined the small crowd his fellow contestants had made in their efforts to mingle with each other.

He wasn’t one to socialize. But he figured if everyone was huddled together and standing, that they must be starting real soon.

Then he heard the large glass doors creak open and I walked in a tall, large blonde man who was the spitting image of what America’s’ s poster boy would look like and-

Oh.

He was _handsome,_

Bucky’s gaze lingered for a moment too long before his eyes snapped away from the man.

The guy who had walked in was, for one, ridiculously jacked. We wore a White tight shirt that hugged the contours of his most prominent muscles. Over it, was a worn leather jacket and a pair of khakis that didn’t really do much for him, but strangely suited him.

The man walked over to the crowd they had formed and stood awkwardly, hands shoved in his pockets. He looked somewhat out of place, but Bucky guessed that they _all_ looked out of place in this big lobby.

Bucky thought about walking over and making small talk with the guy, before deciding against it. Knowing him, he’d just embarrass himself and go home before the competition started.

Bucky took a moment to get a better look at the man. He definitely was nervous, but then again everyone was. He also had a set, determined, look on his face. One that suggested that despite the man’s awkward demeanor he was serious about being here. Like he definitely hadn’t just auditioned as a dare. Like he had actually thought this through.

Bucky scowled.

He was also, ridiculously hot.

He probably knew it too. He probably knew that he could sweep anyone in this room off their feet. That he could just show off his muscles that his shirt made so, incredibly visible and-

Bucky‘s train of thought was interrupted by what he recognized as Tony Stark’s voice. He turned to see the man himself standing in front of the excited contestants.

“Good morning Bakers!!” He sais, bright and cheerful, like it wasn’t 8 in the fucking morning and he hadn’t gotten up at 5 just to get ready and have enough spare time to make it over to the tower on time (which Bucky most definitely had had to do.)

“I’m glad to see you all this morning. And by a head count , it looks like you’re all here! Congrats to you guys. Really, give yourselves a pat on the back.”

Bucky had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. For an accomplished, multi-millionaire who could be recognized internationally, Tony Stark, Bucky was beginning to realize, was really annoying. He hadn’t been had to talk to the man yet and he was already starting to regret this.

“Now, if you’ll just follow me over here, we’ll give you all the key cards to your rooms and get started…”

-

Bucky tucked a lock of hair that fell out of his bun behind his ear. After walking into the kitchen where they would be filming (and walking out, then walking in again, then walking out again, to get that “perfect shot” for the cameras), It was finally time to get to what Bucky had come here to do. Bake.

The idea of creating something from scratch made him feel at ease. After his time in the army, Bucky had picked up baking as a hobby. His physical therapist had advised him to use his prosthetic as much as possible to get used to it, that over time his continued use would give him more mobility. She had said something hands on would be best.

He’d figured it was baking or drawing, and Bucky was a shit drawer.

And besides,he preferred to bake, having a sweet tooth that only Becca and his mom knew about.

At first it had been frustrating and difficult. He’d make a mess in the kitchen, unable to be precise while using his metal arm. It was difficult to control, and heavy to use for extended periods of time, and often he would give up before getting halfway through a bake.

Slowly however, he got the hang of it. He doesn’t make as much of a mess now (and if he does, he can’t blame it on the metal arm anymore, really, he’s just a clumsy guy). He’s also far faster at it than he was before, which is always a bonus.

And it really helps that he fucking _loves_ baking. For some time now, it’s become his happy place. The thing that relaxes him when nothing else does.

“Welcome Bakers!” Petter Potts stood before them. She had already introduced herself as their host before the cameras started rolling, Now she had on a bright smile, and used the same fake show-announcer voice Tony had used earlier to greet them at the lobby.

“Now believe me when I say we are all so excited for you to join us! For the next 12 weeks, you’ll be baking your little hearts out right in this kitchen. You’ll be competing for the grand prize of...100,000 dollars!!” His fellow contestants cheered then. Bucky knew that they had all been instructed to do so, but most were genuinely excited about the prize money.

Bucky had no idea what he would do with all of that money, maybe he’d buy a car. Or a better arm, maybe he’d just give it all away. The possibilities were endless.

Bucky tried his best to seem excited for the camera. He settled for clapping (which he did sparingly because it _hurt_ to slap metal against his flesh hand) and gave the camera a smile.

“Now before we get started on your first bakes of the season, let’s meet our judges. First up we have the lovely Maria Hill, who has made a name for herself as one of the best pastry makers in both Europe and the Americas!”

“Nice to meet you all” Maria Hill said as everyone gave a polite clap. She looked tough yet enduring. Bucky liked her already.

“Up next is someone who I’m sure you all know, Tony Stark!”

“Thank you Pep, always a pleasure to be here.” Tony said, voice cocky and confident. Bucky briefly wondered if Tony Stark was always like this. On commercials and other TV shows, he looked larger than life. Now that he was before him, Bucky could only roll his eyes.

“And last but not least, we have Director Nick Fury! Known for his fine chocolate work and exquisite cakes, he’s one of the most experienced judges here!”

Fury gave them all a silent nod. Bucky’s mental number of scary looking people in the room rose.

Pepper turned back to everyone, smiling widely. “Alright everyone, now for your first bake you will all perform your first technical challenge, where you will show us your baking skills. For this challenge we want you all to prepare for us a Swiss roll. As most of you know it consists of a cake sheet rolled with icing in the middle. You will have 120 minutes to complete this challenge. Now get to your stations bakers.”

Bucky followed as the rest of the bakers got to their respective places. Each station was fully equipped with a state-of-the-art mixer, an oven that put Bucky’s to shame, and every pan shape imaginable.

Bucky felt his nerves catching up to him, he shook out his hands and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Now that he was here, with the cameras rolling, he wanted to make Becca proud. Maybe this time their drunken made bets would amount to something that didn’t end in disaster.

“Now remember bakers, you’ll have 120 minutes to complete this challenge. We want you all to put your own personality into the cake. Show us what you're made of!”

As pepper spoke, Bucky thought about what flavors he could use. He knew he’d need to make something a little more complex if he wanted to stand out.

_Something pistachio, maybe some strawberries?_

Bucky forced his shoulders to untense. He could do this, he’d done it before. A cake in under 2 hours was no problem. He wasn’t the best at decorating, not with his arm, but he would make it work when he got to it. He always managed.

“On your marks bakers…”

Bucky took another deep breath in.

“Get set…”

_You can do this._

“Go!”

~

Steve was freaking out.

After the initial adrenaline of almost being late to one of the most important events of his life had worn off, it had been replaced with fearful realization that he was about to be a contestant on The Great American Baking Show.

What the hell had he gotten himself into?

As they walked to the set where they would be doing the actual baking, Steve had taken a chance to look at his fellow contestants. He was taller than most of them, he noted, but then again, he was usually taller than most people. They were an interesting bunch. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t intimidated by some of them. They all looked about ready to fight for this. He guessed he did too.

They got situated and introduced to the judges. Amongst them was of course Tony Stark. Steve wouldn’t admit it out loud, not in a show literally _run_ by him, but he didn’t like Stark. Sure, he was a great baker, one of the best among the country, but he was also, in Steve’s opinion, a bit of an asshole.

He was the one giving the grand prize at the end however, so Steve decided he could tolerate him for the time being.

By the time Pepper Potts was giving them their final instructions, Steve’s heart was beating out of his chest. He _wanted_ this. He wanted to win for himself. For his mom.

He’d never backed down from a challenge presented to him. This was no different. A Swiss roll, it wasn’t Steve’s expertise, but he would manage. He knew the basics of it and what would work and what wouldn’t. He could never go wrong with chocolate cake. Lemon buttercream would complement it nicely. He’d figure it out from there.

“Get set…..Go!”

Steve went for his pans. He found the parchment to line them with and quickly tore a couple pieces, then set them aside for when his batter would be ready. He preheated his oven to 350F. Now that the prep was over. It was time for the fun part.

As Steve settled into his little corner of a kitchen, he became excited. This was what he loved to do. He knew how to make a chocolate cake batter like the back of his hand. He let his body go on autopilot, getting the ingredients he’d become so familiar with over the last two years. He was meant for this and he knew it.

As he was finishing beating his butter and sugar together, he looked up from his work area. He saw Pepper Potts and the camera man that followed her around start going around to each of the contestants. They walked over to a red headed woman who was beating raspberries into her batter. Steve began to add his eggs in.

He listened as Pepper, bright and cheerful as ever for the cameras, began the first contestant “interrogation” of the season.

“Ah hello, and what is your name love?”

“Natasha Romanov”

_Natasha,_ Steve thought, had one of the meanest looks he’d ever seen. Not that it fazed pepper, she didn’t even seem to notice it.

“Natasha! What will you be making for us today?”

“ I thought I’d make something a little classy for the first round, raspberries and white chocolate.” Natasha was diligent and worked as she spoke, never once losing her concentration. She caught Steve’s eye for a moment and flashed him a small smile. There was something graceful about the way she moved. Nothing seemed to be out of place, not a wrong move in sight. Her odd grace contrasted her initial deadly impression, it was astonishing,

She was going to be quite the competition.

“Sounds delicious Natasha! We’ll let you get back to it. “ Pepper put on what Steve was quickly figuring out was her “show smile”. The kind only tv show hosts knew how to perfect. Steve half listened to the rest of this contestants respond to Pepper’s questions as she walked around the kitchen, camera always following her. Steve measured his cocoa powder and flour, adding them in and setting his mixer to medium. He started to grate a lemon for the zest.

Next Pepper walked over to the guy behind Natasha.

_My name is Bruce_ , Steve heard the man say, he wore glasses and stood timidly. Still, he spoke clearly as he explained his baking plans. _A peaches and cream roll. I’m adding a bit of ginger for an extra kick._

Sam Wilson was next. He looked overall confident, but he was not cocky. Steve found himself liking him right away, he was someone Steve would want as a friend. _I’ll be making a key lime coconut role, it’s got some strong flavors to work with, go big or go home ya know?_

As they worked, Pepper Potts made her way around the tent. By the time she made her way to his side of the kitchen, he had his batter in the oven and was working in his buttercream. He needed it to be as creamy and smooth as possible, so it would compliment the texture of the blueberries.

He’d had tried his best to listen to what everyone was making, it was kind of like getting to know the people who he’d be spending the next 12 weekends with through their cake baking decisions. He tried to look up every time someone would say their name, so he could put a face to it.

Peter Parker was making a vanilla sponge dyed blue with chocolate and pop rocks icing. The kid might’ve been 5 or 18, but Steve couldn’t tell.

Up next had been a man with a strange name, Thor odinson, who had an equally strange cake. _Radish and carrot_ , he’d said _, mother’s favorite._

His brother, Loki Laufeyson, was the complete opposite of Thor, he was his very own type of strange. _A rosewater and lychee roll. Fit for a king._

A short man named Clint, who spent far too much time talking to pepper rather than baking, had at some point in his rant declared he’d be making a coffee and candied pepper roll. Steve had to stifle his giggle when Clint made a pun which Pepper did _not_ appreciate,

Brock Rumlow, who rubbed Steve the wrong way, said he’d be making a simple red velvet cake with cherry buttercream.

A man who introduced himself as “Rhodey”, was making a simple carrot cake.

Stephen strange, who was two tables in front of him and had the delicate hands of a surgeon, said in a calm voice that he would be making a snickerdoodle roll with cream cheese filling.

Then Pepper strolled over to the man with the metal arm. Steve perked up more when he saw it was his turn to be interrogated. He’d been trying to figure out what he was making for some time. Looking over to his table every now and then, but he gave nothing away. He’d been quiet the entire time, not even looking at the other contestants or what they were making, his concentration was matched only by Natasha’s, who seemed to be able to balance the perfect sense of focus with the curiosity of wanting to know what was going on around her.

“Ahhh, and here we have another contestant. Please, introduce yourself!”

Steve watched as the man glanced up for a second, then turned his gaze back to his mixing bowl.

“My name is…. Bucky. Bucky Barnes.”

_Bucky_. Steve watched him more carefully, looking up from where he was folding the lemon juice into his buttercream. His cake sheets were done and cooling, the only thing left for him to do now was roll his cake. The most difficult part.

“Ah what an interesting name! So Bucky, tell us what you’ll be making for us today.”

Bucky paused for a moment, considering his words. Steve watched as Bucky looked up briefly at Pepper, then back down at his buttercream. He still avoided looking into the camera.

“ a pistachio cake, with strawberry filling and walnuts.” The guy, _Bucky_ , all but spat out. He looked away from pepper completely, and caved in on himself, moving to the far side of his workspace where he turned his back to both pepper and the camera and took his cake sheet out of the pan.

Steve suppressed the urge to glare. Maybe the guy was just having a bad day, but he didn’t have to be _rude_ to their host. This was, after all, a TV show. Did the guy not expect them to ask him any questions?

Pepper looked shocked for a second, but she recovered quickly. Her cheeky, plastic smile still splattered across her face.

“Right, well thank you Bucky! We’ll let you get back to it.”

Steve watched as Pepper moved away from Bucky, who hadn’t bothered to respond, but instead had just given her a single, weak nod.

Steve would be lying to himself if he said it didn’t bother him. He tried to reason within himself. _Maybe the guys’ just camera shy?_ Steve sighed and picked up a spatula to spread this buttercream over his sheet cake. He’d give the guy the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it was just nerves, he thought, he shouldn’t judge his teammates so quickly, they hadn’t even talked yet.

He looked up to see Pepper and her cameraman walking up to his table. He put on his “stage” smile as he stood straighter to greet her. He’d learned in his brief days of theater how to charm his audience, and after the shit show that had been bucky's makeshift “interview”, Steve figured he’d give something for Pepper to work with to make up for it.

“And here we have the last, but certainly not least contestant in the kitchen! What is your name and what will you be preparing for us today?”

Steve took a deep breath and projected his voice, loud and clear for the camera and Pepper.

“Always a pleasure! My name is Steve Rogers and today I’m making a dark chocolate roll with lemon curd and blueberry frosting...”

-

Bucky was about a second away from having a breakdown.

The nerves he’d thought had calmed we’re back in full force. It’s a miracle, really, that he hadn’t burned himself to death within the first 30 minutes.

He’d managed to prepare his batter and set his oven with shaking hands, but without spilling anything. By the time he was working on his frosting, Pepper Potts was sneaking onto him to ask him questions.

Bucky had been snapped out of his tunnel vision of focus. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been paying attention, sure he’d heard her going around asking people’s name and bakes for the day. (He’d caught quite a few before zoning out. Natasha, Bruce, Peter, Sam… but the rest melded together in his mind)

He hadn’t realized an entire hour and 30 minutes had passed untIl Pepper stood next to him, cameraman and all, snapping him back to reality.

“..And here we have another contestant. Please, introduce yourself!!”

Bucky had to stop himself from glaring. It’s not that she was doing anything _wrong_ , but Bucky couldn’t help himself. He’d been fluctuating between a state of panic and focus for almost two hours, and it was starting to think a toll on him. He thought not for the first time, that maybe he shouldn’t have been selected to be on this show.

It didn’t help that he was _incredibly_ camera shy.

It took him longer than he’d like to admit before he managed to stumble out “My name is…...Bucky. Bucky Barnes.”

He could have hit himself on the head for having to think for so long about what his name was. He wanted more than anything for her to go away so that he could focus on his bake again.

It wasn’t that she was a bad person or anything, Bucky didn’t get that vibe from her. In fact she was probably one of the sweetest people Bucky had met so far.

It was just that Bucky was a terrible, terrible contestant.

Pepper’s expression faltered for a split second, but before Bucky could blink it was back to its cheerful facade.

“Ah what an interesting name! So Bucky, tell us what you’ll be making for us today.”

Bucky cringed internally. Should he have told her his actual name? That it was James Barnes and that Bucky was just his nickname?? Bucky panicked inside his internal monologue. Somewhere in his head, he knew he was being irrational and that he probably shouldn’t worry about it.

He realized that he still hadn’t answered Pepper’s follow-up questions and had to stop himself from groaning, He felt like he was messing this up already and they hadn’t even judged the first bake yet.

“ a pistachio cake, with strawberry filling and walnuts.” There. He’d done it and managed to not stumble over his words. He turned to his cake, wanting desperately to get back to it. He knew he should have done that better, and if the cameras weren’t still in his face, he’d have apologized to Pepper by now.

God, did he feel like an _asshole._

“Right, well thank you Bucky! We’ll let you get back to it.”

Bucky looked back over his shoulder to give a slight nod, not trusting his voice anymore.

Pepper’s smile was tight as she and her cameraman moved away from him and onto the next table. Bucky felt his tense shoulders relax. He was out of the line of fire now, awful as that might have went. As far as first introductions go, that was _not_ his best.

Bucky thinks _once_ he might have been extra confident and charming, when he was younger. Cocky even. Desperate to prove himself and his worth to the world. Then he got older, enlisted in the military, lost his arm, maybe a part of himself along the way.

Believe it or not, that could really change a guy.

Bucky glanced behind his shoulder as he absentmindedly spread his buttercream (which he’s rather proud he didn’t spill on himself, thank you very much), and caught a glimpse of the guy Pepper was talking to.

Fuck, it was that handsome guy from before.

Bucky pretended to need something from the other side of his workspace to get a better look at him, The same guy from earlier, except he had ditched his jacket, fully exposing his buff (greatly appreciated) arms. He gave Pepper and the camera a smile that could put the sun to shame, his teeth perfectly straight. His hair was brushed to the side, and even though he ran his hands through it, it still fell nicely with no stray hairs sticking up. His eyes crinkled when he smiled. He was charming.

Perfect, almost _too perfect._

In fact, as Bucky looked down at the cakesheet the man was currently rolling filled with icing, he realized it was like he’d come straight out of a magazine. Even his cake was perfect. The cake sheet a perfect rectangle, with the edges cut into sharp 90 degree angles. His buttercream looked deliciously smooth, and even the berries inside the sweet yellow-tinted frosting seemed to be perfectly placed in just the right spots, so that if it were cut into, there would always be a berry to bite.

Interesting.

Bucky caught himself staring again, and turned back to his own cake.

“Always a pleasure! My name is Steve Rogers and today I’m making a dark chocolate roll with lemon curd and blueberry frosting. I’ll be adding a hint of mint too, mostly as a garnish.

God, even his voice was great. It sounded like it was made for him, deep and husky and Bucky was now distracted for all different reasons.

He _hated_ it. It just wasn’t fair.

It was almost off putting how perfect he appeared to be. He looked like he could be the poster boy for the American dream. It didn’t help his case to be so charming.

This guy _had_ to be some sort of robot. And that was coming from Bucky, who had a metal arm.

Bucky looked down at the cake sheet he’d stopped rolling half way through. It wasn’t perfect, a little bit sloppy. But it was still better than the previous attempts at Swiss rolls he’d made in his own kitchen. It added _character,_ he reassured himself.

Well, whatever. He wasn’t about to start comparing his own cake to Mr. Perfect’s. What really mattered was the taste.

Bucky scowled at himself. He only had 15 minutes left to finish, he couldn’t get into his own head now. He has to focus on finishing his cake.

As carefully as he could manage, he rolled the rest of his cake sheet into a spiral. Bucky silently congratulated himself for not making any major crack in the sponge or have the frosting come out the sides of the cake.

He got some leftover crushed up walnuts and sprinkled them on top on the roll. Then, he cut the edges that were less than pretty away.

The cake was slightly lopsided, with a small dip on one of its ends. Bucky bit his lip in thought, if he wanted to try to impress the judges, he’d have to hide that somehow. He grabbed the leftover frosting still in its piping bag and made 3 evenly spaced swirls on top of the cake. He cut a strawberry in half and positioned it in the side of the cake, for some flare.

_Not bad_ , maybe he wouldn’t get sent away on his first week.

“30 seconds bakers!”

He snapped his head up and glanced at his fellow contestants. Most of them were in a rush, putting the final touches on their own Swiss rolls to serve to the judges. The kid, Peter maybe, was trying his best to manhandle his cake into a distinct cylinder shape.

“That’s time bakers, step away from your plates!”

Bucky took a step back, taking the chance to further look around the room. The woman from before, Natasha, had the most pristine cake Bucky had ever seen. It looked delicate and beautiful. It was perfect, but not in the way the blonde behind him seemed to be, but in a way that was very much what Natasha looked like. Behind her station Bucky’s eyes fell on Bruce’s (He thinks his name was Bruce?) cake. It’s not as perfect as Natasha’s or that Steve guy, but it certainly looked good. It didn’t look rushed, more like it had been prepared with love and care. Behind him the man who Bucky remembered as Sam (or was it Sammy?) had a fluffy looking roll that was covered in dried coconut shavings. The coconut shavings covered any imperfections that would have otherwise been obvious, and Sam’s choice of decoration was extremely well thought out.

Bucky gulped, the competition seemed to be getting harder by the minute. Bucky only got half a glance at the other cakes before Pepper called them to attention. His eyes lingered for a second on Steve’s before turning back around.

It was beautiful. The berries inside the frosting gleamed as they peaked out of the white creamy goodness inside the perfectly symmetrical spiral. If Bucky didn’t know any better, he’d say the cake was a perfect circle, made with a compass as a guide.

There was no way he was ever going to win this stupid competition.

He relaxes his shoulders he didn’t realize hed tensed up again as he watched the camera man turn his camera down and stop recording. The easy part was done, now came the worst part: judging.

Bucky had watched enough cooking shows before to know that this was never any fun. Even in the comfort of his own home, he’d feared for the fates of the contestants in the reruns of seasons upon seasons of baking competitions. Now that he was in the center of it, the only thing keeping him sane was the knowledge that today there would be no elimination.

Tomorrow though, he wasn’t sure how he was gonna get through it,

“okay bakers, if you’ll please wait outside in the lounge to the right for a couple of minutes while we set up your bakes and bring in the judges. We’ll call you guys back in when everything’s set up. Then we’ll begin the judging.”

One by one, the bakers filed out of the kitchen and into a massive hallway that lead them to what pepper had described as the lounge. As Bucky passed, he tried to shoot Pepper an apologetic smile.

-

Describing the place as a “lounge” was a serious understatement.

Bucky stood for a moment in awe at the place, it was bigger than his entire apartment. There were four couches, two TVs , and the softest looking rug Bucky had ever seen. On the side of the room there was a counter with a coffee pot and a stove, with a mini fridge to the side. The wall that faced the outside of the building was made entirely of glass, giving them all a perfect view of New York city.

All the other contestants were also gawking at the room, both at its size and at the view they were given. They were more or less buzzing with the excitement of having completed their first challenge of the season. Some stood in groups and talked eagerly to each other, trying to get to know each other better. Others walked around together making small talk and checking out the area. He spotted Natasha talking to Steve, Sam, and that guy Clint, looking very pleased with herself. He turned just as Steve excused himself from the small group and walked on. On their side, the brothers, _Thor and Loki_ Bucky recalled, were arguing about who’s cake was better, and who would be winning the competition. The others were spaced out in their own little bubbles.

Bucky, not for the first time, felt incredibly out of place.

He sighed and sat on the nearest couch, almost disappearing into it. Like every else in the room, it was overly stuffed and big, and even a well built man like Bucky had trouble not sinking into it.

As for his social problem, he knew that logically he could walk up to any group, introduce himself, and join their conversation. He was almost tempted to walk up to Natasha and Sam, who he had deemed as the most approachable people in the room, when a mass of 220 pounds of pure muscle and stunning blue eyes sat next to him.

_Steve._

Bucky started for a moment, unsure of himself. He felt like he was back in his military camp, scared to step out of line under the watch of his captains. He became painfully aware that Steve vaguely reminded him of a general, his gaze steady and strong, like he had a purpose in the world and he knew it.

“Hello?”

Bucky blinked, realizing he’d zoned out. He saw that Steve had his hand outstretched out to him. Bucky slowly took it and gave a weak shake.

“Hi?”

“ I don’t think you heard me. I’m Steve Rogers, I -Uh, I asked what your name was.” Steve looked more and more annoyed by the second. Bucky wasn’t sure what was up with the guy, but it couldn’t have been something he’d done. He hadn’t given himself the chance to talk to anyone yet, let alone _Steve._

Bucky felt like more of an idiot than before. “I’m Bucky. Barnes. Bucky Barnes.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at him, almost as if inciting a challenge. It was brief, but Bucky didn’t miss how Steve’s eyes drifted towards his metal arm for a split second.

If Bucky felt awkward before, he felt flat out uncomfortable now. He hated when people looked at his arm and found it be the first and only topic of conversation. It wasn’t like it bothered him having the arm anymore, not after years of therapy and having it attached to his body. It was just that, there was _more_ to him than his arm. He was used to people only coming up to him to ask about it, but that didn’t make him any less wary of it.

He eyed Steve carefully, challenging him with his eyes to ask. Instead, Steve’s gaze only hardened. Bucky was starting to think he was right about Steve being a handsome asshole.

“That was a nice cake you made.” Steve said as he crossed his arms, shifting so that his whole body faced Bucky. His voice stiff and on edge, like he was forcing out the compliment,

Bucky tried his best to look friendly, but the guy was starting to get on his nerves, who did he think he was? Just because he made perfect cakes didn’t mean he got a pass to be a dickwad.

He narrowed his eyes and sat a little straighter. “Thanks, yours was pretty _perfect.”_

Bucky swears he meant for it to sound like a compliment, but by the time the last word had left his mouth he couldn’t help the mocking and condescending tone of his voice.

Steve looked almost taken aback, like he hadn’t expected Bucky to answer him with that much venom. Or maybe like he hadn’t thought Bucky would answer him at all. Either way, he seemed to hit a nerve, because Steve’s face shifted into something angry. Bucky briefly thought somewhere in the back of his mind, that maybe it wasn’t the brightest idea to start picking a fight with one of the strongest guys in the room.

Steve raised his voice slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean? I-I wouldn’t say it was perfect-“

Bucky scoffed. “Sure it was, I bet everything you do is-“

“ _Boys_.”

They both turned to see Natasha standing in front of them, her eyebrow raised and her head cocked to the side. She stood over the both of them, daring them to continue arguing. Bucky followed her eyes to Steve’s, who had an unreadable look on his face.

The fight in Bucky went out, and he slumped back into the oversized couch cushion. Steve still had his arms crossed, but he was now starting at the wall in front of him.

“I don’t believe we’ve met, I’m Natsha Romanov.”

“Bucky Barnes.” Bucky shook her outstretched hand a little firmer than he had Steve’s. He was getting tired of having to re-introduce himself.

She gave him a ghost of a smile and turned towards Steve, who had now resorted to starting at the ceiling to avoid Natasha’s gaze.

“Pepper came in a couple seconds ago to tell us we’re going back for judging now, didn’t think you guys heard.” She gave Steve one last look and turned to go as quickly as she’d come. Bucky followed her movements to the door where Sam and Clint were waiting for her.

Bucky felt like he’d just been scolded by his mother. Or the cops. He let out a huff and got up from the couch. He made his way to the door, but not before giving Steve a glare, making sure he saw it.

-

That was _not_ how Steve had meant for that to happen.

Honest, he’d just been trying to make conversation with the guy, get to know him a little better.

Instead, he’d ended up even more annoyed at the guy than he was before.

It's not that he was _trying_ to pick a fight, but it just so happened that the fight followed him wherever he went. Or at least it used to. His little conversation with Bucky reminded him of when he was younger and skinnier, and didn’t know when to quit.

He still doesn’t know when to quit, but he doesn’t get into fights as often, not now that he’s 6 foot 2 has been working out everyday for the last for years.

His almost argument with Bucky is the closest thing he’s had to a physical fight since, and he’d be damned if he was about to back down. Then Natasha, the girl who he’d made conversation with earlier was standing in front of him, looking at him like he was the stupidest guy in the world. She’d been easy to talk to, both her and Sam seemed to click with him in a way he hadn’t with anyone in a while. When he’d told them about his curiosity with Bucky, and how he’d acted during his talk with pepper; Natasha had told him not to take it so seriously, to leave the guy alone. She said she’d invite him to talk before they had to go back.

Steve made it his mission to beat her to it, and pretended to go get a drink to talk to Bucky instead.

When he’d first sat own, he took a second to look more closely at Bucky. He'd be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he was handsome. His shoulder Length hair falling softly over his eyes that were a gorgeous mix of blues, greens, greys. The slight stubble on his chin suited him, and he had a jawline the put knives to shame. If he wasn’t an asshole, Steve thought he would be just his type.

He tried not to let Bucky’s comment about the “perfect” state of his cake get to him, but it had caught him off guard. Everyone always saw Steve as naturally talented, like he hadn’t worked his ass off to get here, like he hadn’t spent years at the gym and trying to get healthier so his mom wouldn’t have to worry as much about him when she became sick. It irked him to no end, how everyone perceived him. He was _not_ a Ken doll, not by any means perfect. For Bucky to mock him for it, was enraging,

It had gone downhill from there, and suddenly natasha herself was standing in front of him, saving him from embarrassing himself by picking a fight in front of everyone. She knew him too well already, and they’d barely known each other for 20 minutes.

He made his way back to the kitchen, the last one in line. They set up in front of the judges table, their respective bakes lined up neatly in front of them. Each one had a card next to it with a number on it, which Steve guessed was for the sake of secrecy in their bakes.

They waited patiently for the judges to arrive as Steve tried his best to avoid making eye contact with Bucky, while making an effort to look for Natasha.

Finally, the judges arrived, everyone growing quiet as they walked to their seats at the front of the room, each space complete with a shiny plaque that had their names engraved into it.

Lastly Pepper walked out, the camera man set up and started recording, and Steve couldn’t help but stand a little straighter.

“Welcome back to the kitchen bakers!! Now we’ll be starting on your first judging of the season. The judges will be doing a blind tasting, meaning they won’t know who’s bake is who’s until after they’ve tasted the bakes…” Pepper went on to re introduce every judge to the camera, then a producer came in to cut the First Swiss roll and served it to the judges in a small plate. The cake was a white roll with coconut flakes on the top that Steve recognized as sam’s.

It was nerve wracking to watch, and it wasn’t even Steve’s cake they were tasting. His Swiss roll was the last down the line of sweets.

You could hear a pin drop in the room as the judges took bites of the cake in front of them and chewed thoughtfully. Maria was the first to speak.

“The buttercream in this is lovely.” Another thoughtful bite. “ I will say however, I wish you’d used less lime, it’s a little overpowering.” Maria says, to no one in particular. The judging continues, Tony says it’s delicious, even for an “amateur”. Fury, the harshest critic of the three says that it had potential but that it really missed the mark.

Their critics make Steve more nervous. The judges don’t beat around the bush, nor do they sugar coat anything. If a bake was bad, they’d be the firsts to say so. After the tasting Stark sat up and faced the contestants.

“Right. Who’s cake was that?”

“Mine sir.” Sam says, waving his arm and stepping forward.

“And what is your name?” Maria chimed in.

“Sam Wilson.”

“Sam, would you tell us what your cake consisted of?”

“It’s a uh- it’s a lime cake with coconut flavored frosting.”.

“Well, it was an alright cake, the frosting was great, but we all agree the lime flavoring was a bit much in the cake itself. There’s also an uneven frosting to cake ratio.” Fury says, his voice stern and unwavering. He had to be one of the scariest judges Steve had ever seen.

Sam gave a thoughtful nod. They made their final verdict on the cake and asked Sam a couple more questions before he stepped back into the line they had made. One by one the judges continued to study the cakes and taste them. After the initial tasting, they’re ask who’s bake it had been. Then, they asked each contestant a couple questions, things like their names and where they’d come from, a well as the elements of the cake. They weren’t fond of peter’s cake, which had turned out to be an explosion of color that vaguely resembled a Swiss roll. The flavor had been there apparently, but the presentation had not been up to their standards. Next had been rumlow, whose cake had been good, but his cockiness and attitude had made the judges visibly uneasy. Steve wondered for a second how they would react to Bucky. If Stark and Maria would give him the same sideways glare they had to Rumlow. Not that it mattered to him. It’s not like he _cared_ or anything.

Steve painstakingly awaited his turn as the judges inched closer and closer to his cake.

Most of their reviews were as positive as they could get. The judges were nit picky, analyzing every detail about the cake. They all loved Natasha’s cake, even stark himself had said that hers was “almost as good as the ones he made”. Steve couldn’t help but roll his eyes. From all the things he had read about Tony Stark, he didn’t think the man would have such a large ego. By the end of her judging, Natasha looked pretty pleased with herself. Steve knew that she was going to be one of the hardest competitors to beat. Her cake was nothing short of flawless, even powdered sugar on top looked carefully placed, like she had placed very flake of sugar herself.

Four more contestants passed. Bruce, Thor, Loki, and Clint all had decent comments made about their bakes. Surprisingly, Stark had _loved_ Bruce’s cake, saying that the flavor profile had been one of his favorites so far.

Bucky’s turn came next. Steve tried his best to ignore him and the judges comments about his bake. In the back of his head, he knew he was being a bit childish, that their limited interactions weren’t enough to make a judgement on Bucky’s whole character. But Steve went with his gut more than he ever went with his brain, whether that was a good choice or not, was for fate to decide.

He snuck a glance a Bucky. He was shifting nervously from foot to foot, his metal hand twitching.

Steve turned back to looking at the judges. All 3 of them took careful bites of the cake in front of them.

Steve took a chance to get a good look at the cake. It could have been better, some of the frosting on top uneven, slipping down the sides. The roll itself was done okay, not as even as it could be but not horrible either. The decoration was average at best, and Steve felt smug looking at it. It wouldn’t win this week’s challenge, that was for sure.

Not that he cared, of course. He could care less if Bucky won the challenge or not. And it’s not like-

“ _Oh”_ Steve turned from where he’d been angrily staring at Bucky’s Swiss roll to Maria Hill’s face. She smiled as she chewed thoughtfully.

“This cake is delicious.” She took her fork and split another bite from the cake. Then brung it up to her mouth.

“I hate to say it, but I gotta agree. The flavor of pistachio in the cake is there, but it’s not bland or overpowered. The strawberries and walnuts complement it nicely. The textures’ perfect too. I will say though, the presentation could be cleaner, but taste wise this is _almost_ perfect.”

Steve glances at Bucky whose eye is twitching. Either the guy has a thing against perfection, or he hates Stark. At least they had one thing in common.

“Who’s cake is this?” Fury asks, he had not yet given his critic on the roll, and Steve couldn’t figure out if that was a bad thing or not.

“It’s mine sir. “ Bucky steps toward, his expression unreadable.

“Your name young man?”

“It’s uh, Bucky Barnes.” Steve watches as a flash of irritation crosses Bucky’s face.

“Well, Mister Barnes, this is quite the cake you’ve got here. If it weren't for your presentation, I’d say we have a real star on our hands.”

Bucky opens his mouth to respond, but Judge Hill beats him to it.

“Yes Mister Barnes, yours flavor are all there, if you’d clean up your presentation more, we’d have a winner here.”

It takes Steve a moment to realize, _everyone_ is staring at Bucky. Even Rumlow, who hadn’t batted an eye when anyone else had been in the spotlight, was watching Bucky like a hawk.

But Bucky just nods and takes a step back. suddenly becoming very interested in his shoes, and doesn’t look back up until the judges have moved on to the next cake. Steve wouldn’t admit it, but he felt kind of bad for the guy. Sure he was an asshole, but even he wouldn’t want to be put on the spot like that. The competition was definitely tough this season, and he wouldn’t want to be someone who every sought to beat.

The rest of the judging went by fairly quickly. In front of Steve went Stephen and Rhodey. The judges liked Stephen’s the most, saying that it had been done with “utmost patience and care”, while they criticized Rhodey’s, saying it had been “a bit of a mess”.

Then finally, it was Steve’s turn. He took a deep breath and held it as the judges each took slices of his Swiss roll and took bites. So far no one had flat out made any disgusted faces, so Steve counted that as a win. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants and rocke on the heels of his feet.

“We’ll for started the presentation is excellent. Nothing is out of place, the frosting to cake ratio is perfect, and the mint is a nice touch too. Tony says, and before Steve thanks he might have actually complimented him, he adds as an afterthought, “nothing I couldn’t do though.”

He rolls his eyes at the same time Judge Hill does, but he doesn’t miss her compliment. “your flavors are beautifully too. The blueberries compliment the lemon nicely, and there a berry is every bite. Well done.”

“Your name?”

He gulps. “Steve Rogers.”

“Well Steve, this Swiss roll is pretty great, if you asked me.” Fury says, and Steve doesn’t have to turn around to know that there’s a pair of eyes trying to shoot lasers through the back of his skull that belong to Bucky Barnes.

“Thank You.” Steve smiles, and takes a step back as the judges move on. He lets his shoulders relax and avoid any eye contact with Bucky. He mentally pats himself on the back. He’s proud of himself. He got through his first day with the judges loving his cake. Whether Bucky was bitter about his skills wasn’t his problem.

Steve closes his eyes, and breathes out.

-

After his cake is out of the way, the rest of the judging goes by in a blur. He tries to pay attention where he can, not wanting to be rude to the contestants who would’ve done the same for him. Then the judges go to Steve’s cake, and suddenly Bucky wishes he could pay attention to anything in the room _but_ Steve.

Of course the judges thought his cake was perfect. As much as Bucky had wanted to tune it out, he couldn’t. He also couldn’t help the glare he gave the back of Steve’s head as the judges wrapped up on his cake. The guy was such a snob. He was perfect at everything and he knew it too. He hadn’t missed the way he wore a smug smile when the judges commented on Bucky’s own appearance, like the guy had expected Bucky to be sloppy. Bucky scoffs at the thought. He’d just have to prove that he could be just as good as Steve.

He zones out for the rest of the judging, and only starts paying attention again when Peppers loud, cheery, fake voice addresses them all.

“All right bakers! The judges have taken into consideration all your cakes and have decided that the winner of the first challenge is…….Natasha!”

Everyone claps politely, even Bucky , whose right palm turns a light shade of pink as he repeatedly slaps his metal hand onto it. Natasha looks happy with herself, and Bucky lets himself smile. She deserves this win, and he’s glad that she gracefully beat _Steve’s._

“Now you’ll all be coming back tomorrow for your first elimination round. The judges will take both today’s preformance, as well as tomorrow’s preformance into consideration when choosing who’ll go home. For now rest, you’ve all made it through the first day!”

Everyone cheers at that. Bucky smiles to himself. He did it and somehow didn’t die in the process. Becca’s going to be so proud of him when he calls her tonight.

When the cheers die down and Pepper signs off, the camera man takes a few shots of both the judges and contestants before yelling _cut!_

Pepper and the judges simultaneously slump and groan. He guesses this take a toll on them as much as it takes a toll of the contestant. Bucky feels like a weight had been lifted from his chest. No longer having to be in the eyes of a camera as all hours puts him at ease.

A producer comes out shortly after and tells them their now free to roam the tower. They can stay in the lounge and hang around, or just go back to their rooms. Before Bucky can turn and make a beeline for his room, Natsha puts her arm around him and leads him to the lounge again. She’s friendly enough in her own strange way, and he doesn’t feel as awkward with her, despite most of their interactions being short and brief.

“Why Natasha? I think I’ve had enough interactions for one day,”

“Call me Nat, and it wouldn’t kill you to get to know the others a little better. You have to spend the next 14 weekends with them you know, it’d do you good.”

He sighs, he knows she’s right. He’s going to have to talk to everyone at some point. It wouldn’t kill him to spend a couple minutes getting to know the others.

Natsha all but drags him into the corner of the lounge where there’s a love seat and a a coffee table. Sam and Clint are already there, deep in conversation with Clint doing wild hand gestures.

“I didn’t think he was gonna be so blunt ya know!! I totally thought. My flavors were there, but I guess I can’t be as messy next time huh”

Sam pats him on the back and turns his head up to look at Natasha and Bucky approaching.

“Ah, so the lone wolf finally emerges! Happy for you to be joining us man! Didn’t know when you finally would” 

Bucky curses himself in his head. So people had noticed how closed off he’s been already, and the first day isn’t even over yet.

“Yeah, well…” Bucky rests his hand on the back of his neck and looks off, a blush dusting his cheeks.

The next 20 minutes go by quickly. Between Sam and Clint cracking jokes and Natasha telling him a bit more about herself (which was interesting, because she had a way of telling you about herself without actually telling you anything), Bucky was starting to relax. He could have almost gotten comfortable, if it weren’t for a pair of blue eyes _staring at him from across the room._

Bucky wishes he hadn’t looked back. There was steve, looking like Bucky had just murdered his entire family. He didn’t know what the hell this guys problem was, he hasn’t even done anything to him.

He turned away, for once trying to be the bigger person. What he did _not_ expect was for Steve to walk over to him.

“ _Barnes”_ Bucky gagged, from anyone else it would have been fine, but coming from Steve with nothing but venom in his voice was almost worse than when people called him James.

“what do _you_ want?”

Natasha gave them both a dangerous look. She looked ready to kick both their asses.

Despite this, Steve didn’t back down, “just wanted to finish our talk form earlier.”

Bucky suppressed the urge to groan. He should have shrugged Natasha off and gone back to the safety of his room.

Bucky looked Steve straight in the eye, he sure as hell wasn't up for this right now, he was tired, and this guy had been on his case all day for existing.

“Actually, I’m pretty tired I think I’m gonna go to bed.” He turned towards Nat, completely ignoring Steve. “Thanks.”

Bucky got up and walked as fast as he could without making it seem like he wanted to run to the door. He pulled out the informational paper that had been handed out at the end of filming and looked for the room number he’d be staying in.

Steve and his stupid handsome face be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on Twitter my handle is @spiderstape!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The elimination round begins.

Steve took a sip of his coffee and closed his eyes. The alarm clock he’d set had gone off at a ridiculously early hour, even for him. He’d sat in his room unmoving under the thick sheets for nearly 20 minutes before realizing sleep wouldn’t come again. He figured he might as well keep his schedule going, it would give him time to get ready for the day ahead of him. Elimination day. 

The thought sat heavy on Steve’s chest as he made his way down to the communal kitchen 3 floors down from his own room. Unsurprisingly, the room was empty. It was after all, 6 in the morning and no one needed to be ready for another 3 hours. Though after yesterday, Steve refused to risk  _ almost _ being late again. It’s why last night he’d set his alarm to wake him an hour earlier than he usually would, even if it meant being up before the sun was. 

He found he didn’t mind that much, as he made his way to the kitchen he found the silence of the tower to be comforting and peaceful. He’d left the common room last night with a headache almost as bad as the ones he’d get when he was a child (though he doesn’t think  _ anything  _ could compare to those). But despite it, it had been fun to at least get to know everyone better. Except  _ Bucky  _ that is. 

He’d thought about it as he poured himself his coffee, hot enough to burn his tongue. The guy had bolted before Steve got a chance to really talk to him. Any benefit of the doubt Steve might have had for Bucky was gone. Now he was sure of it, the guy was an asshole. Sure, maybe Steve hadn’t been the  _ best _ at greeting him, but that didn’t mean he had to run away. 

Steve gulps more coffee down and scoffs at the memory. Maybe it would be easier to just ignore Bucky for the rest of the season. Just because his station is right in front of Steve’s and he might be one of the biggest competitors to beat and he also talks to Natasha and Sam the most doesn’t mean- 

_ Well, speak of the devil.  _

Steve snaps his head up from where he’d been staring at his coffee as he hears the steps of Bucky Barnes walking into the kitchen. Bucky doesn’t notice him standing there at first, but when he does he jumps, not expecting there to be someone else in the kitchen this early (and Steve doesn’t laugh at it or anything, because he’s  _ most definitely  _ supposed to be “the bigger person”, thank you very much). 

They look at each other for a moment longer than necessary, the tension in the room so thick it could be sliced with a knife.  _ So much for a peaceful morning _ , Steve thinks. 

Bucky is the one to break eye contact first, looking down and clearing his throat, coming closer to Steve and the coffee machine. For a place so big,  _ why _ did there only have to be one coffee machine in the entire room? 

“Mornin’” Bucky mumbles, grumpy and as closed off as ever. Steve watches as Bucky takes a mug out of the cabinet above them and pours himself a cup of coffee. It’s too early to pick a fight, Steve thinks, and he’d hate to wake the other contestants (especially Natasha, who would kill them  _ both  _ if she found out they were making a scene for the third time in the last two days), so instead, he settles for giving Bucky a nod and going to sit down in as far away from where Bucky is as possible. 

Or that’s what Steve  _ planned  _ to do, until he catches a glimpse what Bucky’s putting into his coffee. 

It should be illegal really, for someone to consume that much sugar and creamer in one go. It’s ridiculous how white Bucky’s coffee looks after he’s done with it. It doesn’t even look like coffee anymore, only creamer and sugar. 

Steve can’t help himself, before his brain has time to catch up with his mouth, he’s already talking. 

“You take your coffee like  _ that _ ?” 

Steve barely catches the surprise on Bucky’s face before it turns into a glare, directed straight at him. 

“Yeah, there a problem?” 

“That’s like, 70% creamer! How do you even  _ drink  _ that?” 

Bucky cocks an eyebrow at him, and Steve would be lying if he said it wasn’t at least a little bit attractive. 

“With three spoons of sugar and a splash of coffee,  _ asshole _ . I’m sorry not all of us like our coffee  _ bitter. _ ” 

Okay, so Bucky was  _ not _ a morning person. 

Steve wasn’t about to back down though, and it was either rile Bucky up or sit in silence until the others got here. And the latter sounded like no fun. 

“At least my coffee is actual  _ coffee,  _ yours is just a sugary mess!!”

“Well mine has some flavor Rogers! Bet you could use to learn a thing or two about-“ 

Bucky falls dead silent when they hear footsteps approaching the kitchen. They both take long sips of their coffee and glare at each other, now standing barely a foot apart. Steve tried not to think about how nice Bucky’s eyes look when the light that’s just started to peak through the window hits them and instead resorts to thinking about just how much of an  _ asshole  _ Bucky was.

In walked both Sam and Natasha. Sam looked more awake than a person ever should this early in the morning, and Natasha, composed as ever, was already fully dressed, hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. 

Sam looked surprised to find them both together in the kitchen alone, while Natasha looked unbothered. If she was surprised, she hid it well. 

“Morning boys.” Natasha says, she opens the fridge in the far right of the room, scanning it for something to drink. 

“Hey guys” Sam says, approaching them. He eyes the coffee pot for a couple seconds before deciding against it, and goes to the toaster on the other side of the room to get started on his breakfast. 

“So, you’re both up early.” Natasha eyes them carefully, leaning against the counter with a cup of orange juice now in hand. She says it in a way that suggests that might have been a playful jab or a warning. It was hard to tell with her. 

Bucky takes one last, long swig of his (disgusting) coffee, while avoiding Natasha’s eyes. He takes his time walking over to the sink and placing his empty mug down, then turns the tap on to wash it. 

“I just got here” Bucky mumbles, and Steve for once, keeps his mouth shut and looks away from Natasha, looking up and whistling a low tune. 

He guesses that it  _ is  _ pretty embarrassing to think about being caught arguing over how they make their coffees. And he’s  _ sure _ Natasha heard. She had to, both her and Sam had been 10 feet away from the door by the time he and Bucky had shut up. 

It’s not like Steve  _ intends _ on picking fights with Bucky. It just happens. It’s like fate has doomed them to gravitate towards each other. Bucky Barnes was going to be the death of him. 

Steve turns once Nat has stopped hovering, and looks at Bucky. He was pouting at something inside the fridge, his eyebrows scrunched together in a frown. 

It was  _ unfair _ , how attractive Bucky was. Steve thought that maybe, if he weren’t such an  _ asshole _ , he could be Steve’s type. Dark brunette hair and eyes so similar to his, yet so different. They were icier, more capturing. Steve’s eyes wandered to Bucky’s arm, shiny and metal, disappearing into Bucky’s short sleeve t-shirt. He remembers how defensive Bucky had gotten when Steve got caught looking at it. He didn’t mean anything in poor taste, just curiosity. He knew better, however, than to ask about things people were clearly uncomfortable with, so he’d settled for looking at Bucky’s eyes and fighting with him about cake. 

Steve hadn’t realized he’d gotten lost in thought until Bucky was up close again, waving his metal hand in front of him. 

“-move? Hello? Earth to Steve?” 

“W-what?” 

Bucky crosses his arms, coffee mug hanging from a finger curled around the handle. 

“I asked if you could move. You’re blocking the coffee machine jerk.” 

Steve figures he  _ could _ pick a fight with Bucky again, just to rile him up, but he can hear the other contestants’ footsteps on the floor above, a telltale since that they’ll be down for breakfast in any minute, so he’d rather save himself the embarrassment. 

Plus he still hasn’t finished his own coffee and it’s getting cold. 

Steve moves to the side, muttering a quick “punk” as he lifts the mug of forgotten coffee to his lips. 

Bucky raises his eyebrow at him, but he doesn’t say anything back. Steve counts it as a win. 

~

“Good morning Bakers!!!” Pepper says, all smiles. Bucky thinks it should be  _ illegal _ to be that enthusiastic this early in the morning. In fact, it should be illegal to be  _ up _ this early in the morning. 

“I hope you all got enough rest last night. Now, today you will be going through your first elimination round. Today, someone will be going home, so bring your best!” 

The contestants cheered, but the energy in the room was tense. They were all reminded that this was a competition where the stakes were high. Someone would be going home today. 

“Today you will be completing the show-stopper. The show stopper will consist of a macaroon tower, with at least 36 macaroons in it. You can stack them however you want, but be creative. Today you will not only be judged on taste and presentation, but creativity will also play a factor in the judges final decision.” 

Bucky swallowed, his throat tight. He shifted his weight from foot to foot. This was nerve wracking. He knew how to make macarons in theory, but he wasn’t an expert, and the few times he’s tried to make they’d come out cracked and overcooked. He could barely make 6, never mind 36. 

“You will have 5 hours to complete the showstopper. The judging will not be anonymous this time, so you will bring your own macaron towers to the judging table once time is up.” 

Bucky briefly looked around at the others in the room, his eyes catching on Steve. He looked as composed as ever. His gaze set and strong, like he knew exactly what he was doing. Bucky could have rolled his eyes, his nerves overtaken by his annoyance with Steve’s existence. 

  
  


“Remember bakers, macaron tower, 5 hours.” On your marks, get set…” 

The bakers all took their stances ready to run to their stations. Bucky knew that although 5 hours seemed like a long time, macarons were no easy feat. They took about two hours to make from batter to oven, plus another hour to cool, and those were just for a basic set of 6 macarons. With all this challenge required, he’d have to watch his time if he was going to get them plated before the day was over.. 

“Bake!” Pepper shouted, smiling at the bakers as they ran to their stations. 

Bucky, lost in thought, took a second longer to get to his station than the rest of the bakers. He straightens as he gets to his station, suddenly alert. This is the real deal, someone is going  _ home _ today. And Bucky’s going to make damn sure that it’s not him. He’d never hear the end of it if Becca found out he got sent home on the first week. 

For a second, his mind blanks, and panic bubbles in his chest. He’s aware that hes _ got no idea what he’s doing.  _ The only thing guiding him is the basic macaron recipe given to all the bakers, printed out on a clean sheet of paper and set on the counter in front of him. He’s also got a small amount of knowledge that comes off the YouTube tutorials he had watched when he’d tried to make macarons for the first time, but in the midst of his panic it’s all gone out the window. 

Bucky closes his eyes and takes deep breaths. He opens his eyes to look at the other contestants in the kitchen. Bruce, who’s two tables away from him, is reading the instructions as he’s taking out his mixer from the shelves under the counter. Across from him, Nat is already measuring out her powdered sugar, and a bag of flower sits close to the bowl she’s put out. 

Bucky settles for getting the ingredients listed on the recipe while he calms down. He can’t lose anymore time than he already has, it’s not like he could stand there all day, waiting for the macarons to construct themselves like magic. 

As he runs to the shelves in the back of the kitchen, he passes Steve’s table. His hands are going a mile a minute, chopping strawberries into fine cubes on a cutting board. 

_ He’s probably been doing this for years _ , Bucky thinks. Steve had the precision of a master chef. He was the kind of person who you’d think would be  _ judging _ their bakes, not the one making them. 

Their eyes met then, maybe for a second too long. Bucky turn away and scoffs as he gets to the shelves in the kitchen, he grabbing what he needs: almond flour, caster sugar, eggs, and butter. He also grabs a container filled with cocoa powder, deciding on the spot that you can never go wrong with chocolate. 

He hauled all the ingredients into his arms and jogged back to his station, careful not to bump into anyone. 15 minutes had already passed by the time Bucky was measuring his own ingredients out. He attempted to focus himself, blocking out the commotion around him. Right now, he needed to focus on making the shells, which were the hardest part of the bake. He mixed his ingredients together, beating the dry ingredients first, then the wet ingredients, then finally beating the egg whites until fluffy in a separate bowl. He added cocoa powder to his mix until it was a dark brown, then mixed all of the elements together and scooped it up into his piping bag. He got out his baking pans and spread parchment paper on them, cursing himself for not doing it earlier. But despite it, he considered to was doing pretty good, he was back on track, and the rise of panic of earlier wasn’t as awful. It was overcome by undivided attention his macaroons demanded. 

He piped the shells as best he could, but with his arm, Bucky had trouble making sure each shell was perfectly circular and evenly spaced. Still, he bit his lip in concentration as he pipped, trying not to fuck up. In the end, he got 84 shells out of the batter he’d made. It was more than enough to allow room for mistakes. 

Bucky crouched and put the baking trays into the oven, set at 300 F, He took a moment to breathe, part one was done, now he had four hours left to do the rest of it. He was about to start on his filling, which would be a fluffy chocolate moose, when he heard Steve humming from behind him. 

Bucky unrolled the packet of powdered sugar on his counter and absentmindedly turned, fully facing Steve. He was humming a song Bucky didn’t recognize, shaking his hips gently when he’d pour a cupful of powdered sugar into his mixing bowl. Bucky watched as Steve took a spoon and dipped into the bowl, tasting what Bucky assumed was the filling. Steve face took in a small smile, holding the spoon to his lips for a moment, he looked delighted by the taste and  _ oh, it was so cute.  _

Bucky turned back to his own station, quickly and roughly cracking another egg open. He hated it, the fact that Steve Rogers, who had been a thorn in Bucky’s side since the moment he stepped into the building, also happened to be one of the hottest contestants among them.

Bucky shook his head. Whatever, he was not about to get distracted because of the guy behind him, he had to focus again, he was here to win a competition.

Bucky went back to the pantry to get some raspberries, deciding that the tartness of the fruit would cut nicely through the richness of the chocolate.

-

Steve took his shells out of the oven and let out a sigh of relief. By some miracle, his shells were in great condition, having risen the right amount, with only a few cracked. He had more than enough to build his tower. So far, everything was working in Steve’s favor. He beat his filing a few more times before scooping the bulk of it into a plastic piping bag. He’d tasted it earlier and couldn’t help the smile that snuck onto his face. He was happy with it, proud of it even. It was sweet and tangy and a tad sour, much like strawberries that hadn’t gotten a chance to mature just yet. 

he wiped the sweat from his brow onto his forearm, and raced his trays of macaroon shells to the freezer for cooling. Today he was making strawberry shortcake macaroons, a flavor that had been his mother’s favorite. He remembers when he was younger, Sarah Rogers would take him to the park on Sundays, her one day off. Sometimes, if they had the money, they would stop at the little fancy french cafe across the street before heading home, and she’d always order a macaroon if she felt like splurging. 

Steve smiled at the memory, it was bittersweet. But he couldn’t dwell on it now, not when he was on a time constraint. 

With only two hours left, Steve had to get these macaroons assembled as quickly as possible. He decided on making an Eiffel Tower, he thought it would be perfect for the type of macaroon he was going for, a classier flavor. 

He glanced up at Bucky, who’d just barely placed his shells in the oven. 

The guy was just was quiet and reserved as he had been yesterday. So far, the cameraman has passed the contestants only a handful of times, catching shots of the bakers while they worked. He’d passed by Steve more than twice, each time zooming in on Steve’s careful handy work. 

Steve noticed that each time, the cameraman barely spared a glance at Bucky. 

He guesses that as much as Bucky was trying his hardest to be ignored, he stood out most amongst the other contestants. He was silent in his movement around the kitchen, focused on the task at hand, whereas the people around caused a commotion, the sounds of talking, the clanging of pans against each other, the occasional burst of laughter. 

But Bucky didn’t look like he  _ wasn’t  _ enjoying himself. As silent as he was, he looked at ease, it contrasted the expression he’d worn earlier, when they had just started. He looked lost, uptight, and upset, and Steve wasn’t the only one who’d noticed that Bucky was going slower than he had yesterday (not that Steve  _ cared _ or anything, no it’s just that if Bucky was going to be his proper rival, he needed him to be at the top of his game). 

Nat had shot him a look then, which he’d given a half-hearted shrug to.

Now though, Bucky was doing fine, in fact, his station was a mess of flour and powdered sugar and brown powder, so Steve figured that meant he was making progress and returned his focus to his own bake in peace. 

He looked at the clock. An hour and fifteen left to stack 36 macaroons in the shape of an Eiffel Tower. Steve sighed, he had no idea how he was going to pull this off.

By the time he was stacking his first set of macaroons, making sure to set the pastries down with a quick batch of vanilla buttercream he’d whipped up, Pepper was making her way across the room to talk to the bakers, starting with Natasha. 

By the time Pepper got to him, he was finishing up the top of the tower (which had taken a tedious amount of patience to get to) and there were 10 minutes left on the clock. 

“Steve! That’s quite the tower you got there, can you tell us about what your macaroons are made out of?” 

Steve looked up at Pepper, her smile bright next to the camera pointed at him. 

“Hey! I’m making strawberry shortcake macaroon. They’ve got cream cheese filling with a strawberry shell.” 

Pepper nodded, her smile never wavering. “Right well, we’ll let you get back to it!” 

Steve watched as she walked towards Bucky, whose face paled when he spotted Pepper. The guy  _ really _ didn’t like to be on camera. Steve shook his head and turned back to his tower, why would he come on a TV show if he hated being filmed? 

Steve could barely hear Bucky talk, he said something about chocolate, but his mumbling was hard to understand.

Steve stopped trying to hear what Bucky was trying to say in favor of adding the finishing touches onto his tower. With nothing short of 4 minutes left to finish, he went on autopilot, piping buttercream into the remaining gaps with machine like precision. As nervous as he was, he still tried to keep his hand steady, a skill that came to him from his hobby of painting.

He was vaguely aware that in front of him, Bucky was rushing to get all the macaroons onto his tower on time. He was moving fast and clumsily, tripping over air. Steve might have found it fun if he weren’t in such a hurry as well. 

The last few seconds passed in what felt like a lifetime and in no time at all. 

“Bakers step away from your towers!” Pepper’s voice rang out through the whole kitchen. Everyone took a step back. Steve looked around the kitchen. Nobody looked like they hadn’t really finished, but there were some towers that looks like a mess, with macarons clinging onto buttercream for their lives. He turned to look at Bucky’s more clearly. Despite the rushing, it looked decently. It was imperfect in the best kind of way. Steve hated to admit it, but he liked it. 

Steve wiped his hands on his jeans and took a moment to look at his own tower from afar. He felt good about it, he hoped the judges would too. 

-

Bucky shifted nervously. The odd structure at the center of his table, somewhat resembled a tree, but the execution wasn’t what he’d hoped it would be. He’d barely been able to make it in time, placing his last macaroon a second before time was called. 

Now he stood beside his bake, the two feet tall tower made entirely out of macaroons and frosting that he’d somehow managed to build without knocking everything over. The tower was the cleanest thing in his table, beside it, everything was a mess. There were splatters of batter everywhere, including his hair. There was also a mess of flour on his jeans and shirt, which were both inconveniently black. 

But the important thing, was that his macaroons were stacked, and on a clean plate, so if Bucky had batter in his hair, he’d just have to roll with it. 

This time the kid, Peter, was up first. Pepper called him to the front, and he cautiously brought his macaroons, shaped like a spider, to the front of the judges. 

Bucky watched as Peter stood beside his bake, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. The judges came up one by one, studying his bake carefully. They wrote on their clipboards while looking the macaroon spider up and down. Fury was the first to speak. 

“Well, you’ve certainly got something unique here, s’the first time I’ve ever seen a spider made out of macaroons.” 

“I agree, it looks great. The structure is good too. This thing isn’t coming down unless we really tried to take it down. Though I will say, some of your macaroon sizing is inconsistent.” Judge Hill said. 

“Yeah well, lets see how it taste kid.” Tony Stark took a macaroon from the top of the tower, and tapped the top shell with his finger before taking a bite of it. 

“Consistency wise- it’s good. Your shells a bit tough, you’ve probably over cooked it.” Another thoughtful bite. “However, I’m not sure these flavors are… right for each other.” 

Peter sort of deflates then, and Bucky feels bad for the kid. That’s twice now that he’s gotten told off for his flavors. 

“Stark’s right, these flavors aren’t right for each other. The banana flavor is overpowered by the caramel flavoring. It’s too salty. They don’t compliment each other as nicely as they could.” Fury says, his face staying void of any emotion. 

Peter gives a small nod, keeping a straight face as he takes his bake in his hands and walks back to his own table, setting it down. Up next was Sam. 

He went up confidently, his macaroons the color of carrots shaped like a vertical bunny. Bucky admitted, it looked adorable. His macaroons were nicely shaped, the only thing kind of off was the drips of white frosting that stuck out of in between the gaps, used for holding the macaroons together, 

“Right Sam, tell us a bit about your bake first.” 

“Here I have carrot and chocolate macaroons topped with powdered sugar and stacked to look like a bunny.” Sam took a breath and he took a second to look at his own bake, clearly proud of himself. 

Judge Hill surprisingly cracked a smile. “Well, it is cute. It’s been built nicely too. Lets see how it tastes.” 

Each judge took a macaroon from the top, then bit into it. 

“The shells have a nice crunchy outer layer, but the inside is still soft, well done.” Stark says as he takes another bite, resting his elbow against the judging table. 

“The filling is nice as well, not too sweet or anything. In fact the tartness of it makes it taste better with the sweet shell. You have a solid bake here Sam.” Fury says, and Sam has a smile on his face that makes Bucky feel lighter. Sam had a way of making a whole room feel at ease with just his presence, especially when he himself was calm and composed. Bucky could almost relax, after the hell of a day he’d had in the kitchen. 

The judging went by pretty quickly. They judged Natasha’s macaroons to have a strange consistency, something about too much sugar in the shells, but they tasted delightful, and the rose she’d make out of them had Pepper swooning, which Tony seemed to like. 

Next they judged Loki’s and Thor’s, which although they seemed to have similar flavors, the towers they’d built were vastly different; Loki’s was in the shape of a snake, which impressed fury, while Thor’s was built like a crown. Tony suggested that he make it more outgoing next time. 

Bruce’s macaroons were purple and green, and the judges seemed to like them well enough, though Judge Hill had thought the shells were a bit overcooked but the filling is what saved his bake. 

Then finally, Bucky’s turn came. He took a deep breath and carefully took the tray into his hands. He was so shaky in bringing his bake to the judges, he almost dropped it. 

Somehow, it got to the judging table safely (thank  _ God _ ) now all he had to do was get through the next five minutes and he’d be golden, no matter what happened, at least he wouldn’t have to feel the pressure of being judged for at least another week. 

“Okay Bucky tell us what you have for us today.” 

Bucky swallowed the past the lump in his throat, but despite his nerves, he tried his bets to speak clearly and openly. He knew he wasn’t gonna last in this competition if he kept shrinking in on himself, like he did every time a camera approached him. He just wasn’t  _ used _ to it, having so many eyes on him all the time. It didn’t help that he knew by Tuesday morning the show would be broadcast nationwide, and all of the US would know his face and who he was. 

It was a strange idea to get used to. 

“Today I made a three layer chocolate macaroon, the shell is dark chocolate, the filling is white chocolate, and the drizzle on top is milk chocolate. There’s some raspberry mixed into the white chocolate filling as well.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he didn’t miss the look of surprise that flashed on Steve’s face. Bucky would have smirked if he wasn’t so damn nervous. He’d show that asshole he could sound professional if he really wanted to. 

The judges all took macaroons from the top of Bucky’s macaroon tree. They examined the little pastries carefully before each taking a bite. 

“I will say, your presentation is nice, but it looks a bit rushed, however the buttercream leaves placed onto the macaroons on top are a nice touch. “ Judge Hill says, taking another bite of the macaroon in her hand and chewing thoughtfully. 

After a while, she speaks again, “It’s good. You’ve got a nice flavor profile going. The raspberries are a nice touch. They break up the overwhelming richness the chocolate would have otherwise had.” 

Fury nods at her, but he looks straight at Bucky. “I agree with Judge Hill, but you’ve played it safe Barnes. A chocolate macaroon isn’t exactly what I’d call creative. Next time, I’d try some more interesting flavors. You’ve got the talent for it.” 

Bucky looks surprised at that. He hadn’t expected to hear that from Judge Fury out of any of them. He knows he had played it safe, if he hadn’t he wouldn’t have been able to finish his bake on time. His blank out at the beginning of the challenge cost him time. 

“I actually agree with eye patch over here. Your flavors are all there, but they’re lacking. He’s right in saying you’ve played it safe, especially for a show stopper.” Stark says, and Fury’s face makes no change after the eyepatch comment, he must be used to it by now. 

Bucky thanks the judges, and grabs his bake to return it to his own station. He thinks that despite everything, the judging didn’t go as badly as he thought it could have. He stands beside his bake, watching for whoever will go next to be judged. 

Of course, it’s Steve. 

Bucky hates to admit it, but Steve’s bake is  _ gorgeous _ . It looks like he’s had  _ days  _ to plan and execute it instead of just  _ hours _ . And of course each little macaroon across the Eiffel Tower sits as a perfect circle, all consistent, the icing used to hold the macaroons together barely visible. Bucky hates how perfect it is. It looks like it came out of a magazine, like the macaroons on it aren’t even  _ real. _ He can see the little gold flakes Steve has dusted his bake with. If Bucky didn’t know any better, he’d say the tower was made out of gold. 

Steve, despite his outstanding bake, looks incredibly nervous. It’s one of the first times Bucky was seen him look so nervous, usually whenever Bucky sees him, the man just looks mad or determined, like no challenge is too big for him. He radiates confidence Bucky wishes he had. But now? Steve bites the side of his lip and twiddles his thumbs, waiting for the judges to talk to him. 

The judges all look a little speechless at the bake in front of them. And Bucky almost scoffs, having to bite his tongue. He’d expect nothing less for a man that looks like he walked out of an American Eagle commercial. 

Judge Hill finally says, “Steve, tell us about your bake.”

Steve stands a little straighter and responds, his voice almost as practiced as Pepper’s. Like an announcer’s voice. Bucky briefly wonders if maybe the guy  _ had _ done commercials before. It would explain so much. 

‘’My macaroons are strawberry shortcake flavored. So they have a cream cheese filling and strawberries incorporated throughout. They’re dusted with some edible glitter and the accents on the tower are made out of white chocolate.” 

Fury nods solemnly and takes a macaroon from the top, studying it for a moment. 

“Well your presentation is outstanding, it’s clean and crisp. The macaroons are all consistent in shape. There’s nothing unappealing about it. Well done Mr.Rogers.”

Bucky swears Steve could be blushing, but he could also be a bit red from how hot it was beginning to feel inside the kitchen. It was hard to tell. 

“Well presentation is one thing, but let’s see how these taste.” Tony took a macaroon from the same spot Judge Fury had taken one, and studied it briefly before taking a bite. Judge Hill and Fury followed his lead. 

They all looked pleased enough. Judge Hill even finished the whole macaroon before addressing Steve. 

“You’ve really outdone yourself with this challenge Steve. The flavors are all there. The strawberries compliment your filling nicely. The shell is great too, it’s just the right texture, crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside.” 

Judge Fury nods in agreement and turns to Steve “Judge Hill is right, both your bakes this week have been great. We expect you’ll be the one to beat this season.” 

Bucky finds that for the first time this weekend, he sees Steve smile. He gives a quick thanks to the judges and takes his bake back to his own station. Bucky watches him as he goes, making eye contact for a second before looking away, pretending to be fixing a loose thread on his shirt. Even after Steve was out of sight, Bucky still felt the man’s eyes on him, burning holes into the back of his head.

The rest of the judging goes by in a blur. The judges gave their critics to Clint, Rhodey, Rumlow, and Stephen. They all had their own critics of the baker’s macaroons. Fury had found that Clint’s presentation was a bit strange, but his taste saved him. Rhodey’s bake was clean and well executed but his taste had missed the mark (there’s just more that could be done, you know? I think it’s missing some flavor), the judges deemed Rumlow’s bake satisfactory, but they weren’t pleased with his attitude towards them. Bucky hadn’t liked him from the start, he was a different kind of cocky and mean, and he was  _ definitely  _ the worst kind of asshole. Stephen’s bake had surprised the judges, with some strange flavor combinations that had surprisingly blended well together. 

The most nerve wracking part came. Elimination. Bucky could feel his heart pounding as they were called up to the front of the room. This time, the cameras had only cut for a couple minutes, and the judges made their decision quickly enough, stepping out of the kitchen for less than 5 minutes before coming back, faces serious. The bakers stood in a semi circle next to him, all facing the judges table. The atmosphere in the room had changed. It’d gone far more tense than it had been. They were all nervous, that much was obvious. Even Steve, who could not possibly be put on a higher pedestal, was fidgeting. It was astounding, how someone who had wooed the judges time and time again in just the first couple of days was nervous about being eliminated. 

Pepper came up to them looking more serious than before, a card in her hand. 

“Well bakers, the time has come, you’ve all successfully completed your first week here, but unfortunately, someone has to go home.”

All of the bakers shifted, anxious to know who it would be. 

“Firstly however, we will announce who the top baker of this week’s show stopper will be. The winner is…Steve!” 

Everyone gave a polite clap, but it was no surprise to anyone that Steve had won, except maybe to Steve himself. 

“Steve, the judges loved your bakes for both the technical and the showstopper. Well done. This win will give you an advantage in next week’s challenge” 

Steve gave what looked to Bucky as a cocky smile, a stark contrast to the usual fighting frown that met Bucky every time he talked to Steve.

“Now onto who will be going home today. You’ve all worked hard, and you should be proud of it, but there’s someone today who did not meet the judges expectations for this week.” Pepper said. 

“The judges have come to a decision and the person who will be going home today is…”

Bucky sucked in a breath and held it. Maybe he should be the one to go home. After all, he hadn’t even planned to be here, and he’d only entered the competition as a joke, a dare he hadn’t expected to get him this far. It was only fair that he- 

“Peter.” 

Oh. 

Peter didn’t even look that fazed by it, he blinked slowly, owlishly. His shoulders slumped but he didn’t really seem surprised. Natasha, who was standing next to Peter, put her hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

“Peter, your technical was messy and the flavors weren’t up to the challenge, and in the showstopper although your presentation was good, again your flavorsare what brought you down.” Fury said, his tone unwavering and unsympathetic. 

Peter nodded, scratching the side of his face. “Thank you for giving me this opportunity.” 

Pepper was silent for a moment, letting it sink in, then spoke. “Now the rest of you are safe for this week. Get some rest bakers, your journey is just starting!” 

The bakers gave a cheer, and the cameras cut. Everyone relaxed then, even Peter who looked sad, but was otherwise as energetic as he had been when he first walked into the kitchen. 

The producers led Peter to another room, where Bucky assumes they were doing one last interview with the camera before letting him go. 

Pepper came back to address the bakers a few minutes later, this time more relaxed and less rigid.

“Okay guys that was a great first week, really, now you guys are free to stay here tonight if you’d like, and we’ll see you all again next Saturday morning for the next round. Get some rest and get ready to keep going next weekend.” 

Sound of agreements and yesses filled the room and the remaining bakers filed out of the kitchen one by one, most heading to the lounge designated to Stark Baking Industry guests. 

Bucky thought about joining them for a second, but he was beat to all hell, and he figured if he started gathering his belongings now, he could make it back home in time before sunset. He didn’t live that far from the tower.

He was about to head up to his guest room, when Natasha stops him, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him back. Bucky suppresses the urge to groan. It seemed that she’d caught him again. He liked Natasha, honest, but he also  _ really _ liked being alone. Especially after being around so many people the whole weekend. 

Natsha slings an arm around his broad shoulders, not once commenting on the fact that she’s touching metal instead of flesh. Bucky sighs and turns to look at her, bracing himself for the question he knows is coming. 

“Hey where are you going so fast? The rest of us are going to go to the lounge to get to know each other a little better, Rhodey’s idea. why don’t you join us?” Natasha says, her hold on Bucky tightening. Bucky looks at Natasha again and knows he’s already lost this battle. There’s no way of getting out of it if he doesn’t want to look like a jerk. 

Besides, maybe it’ll be good for him to mingle with the other contestants, show them that he can talk to others outside of pepper’s brief, awkward questions and arguments with Steve. 

Wait shit,  _ Steve _ . 

Of course he’s going to be here, he’s one of the most sociable contestants out of this season. Bucky almost considers leaving, turning on his heel and ducking out of Natasha’s grasp, but by then Natasha has already closed the door of the lounge, and almost everyone has picked up on the fact that he’s  _ here.  _

Well, whatever. He just needs to avoid Steve, he barely knows the guy anyway, how hard could it be?

-

Steve tilts his head back and laughs at Sam’s joke. They had formed something resembling a circle, with him, Sam, Rhodey, Bruce, And Thor, all holding soda cans as they chatted. So the little meeting Rhodey had suggested had been nice. Steve didn’t have to think about the competition for another week, and he could finally relax a little and enjoy himself without the constant pressure. He hadn’t even started any arguments with Bucky, who his fighting spirit seemed to be endlessly drawn to. The only other person who actually got under his skin was Brock, who had cockiness and overconfidence spilling out of his ears. He was unpleasant to be around, so he and most of the other contestants kept their distance from him. 

Steve glanced at Bucky, who was sitting on the couch next to Natasha and Clint, smiling at whatever Clint was saying. Bucky was nursing his own soda in his hands, taking small sips of it every now and then. He looked up then, right at Steve, and they made eye contact briefly before Steve looked away, feeling embarrassed to have been caught staring. 

He supposed that Bucky wasn’t the  _ worst _ person in this competition. Definitely not like Rumlow, who made Steve’s skin crawl in the worst way possible. Bucky was harder to figure out than anything. Steve couldn’t pinpoint if he was actually rude or just camera shy, he moved almost silently in the kitchen, whereas the others were loud. Steve realized that more than the others, he wanted to  _ beat _ Bucky. He was a skilled baker, no doubt about it, his skills were matched mostly by Natasha’s, the only difference was his presentation. 

Steve took another sip of his soda and glanced again at Bucky. He was going to prove that his bakes came from years of practice, and not just talent like Bucky seemed to think. 

Steve  _ almost _ decides to walk over to where Bucky and Natasha were, but Rhodey stopped him by catching his attention. 

“Hey guys, why don’t we all play a game to get to know each other better?” Rhodey half shouts. He’s standing in the coffee table, hovering over the other bakers. 

“What a marvelous idea!” Thor says, looking too excited. He and the other bakers all move to the larger part of the lounge, where there's enough couch space for everyone to sit. 

Steve sits next to Sam, who he’s taken a liking to. Sam was nice, he was the type of guy who you could talk to anything about. He did no harm, but he also took no shit. 

Across from him Bucky sat next to Natasha, who sat next to Clint. It surprised Steve, to see Bucky wanting to join them. When he’d first arrived, he’d looked like he had wanted to run all the way back to his room. Now he looked at ease. No longer in the same tight, closed off position he sat in back on the smaller couch off to the side of the huge room. 

The others quickly took their seats, filling in the remaining spots on the couch. 

“Right!! Let's play a game kinda like spin the bottle. Except less kissing and more asking questions.” Rhodey placed his empty soda can in the middle on the coffee table the couched surrounded. 

“Someone will spin it, and when it lands on someone else, the person who spun it will ask a question to the person on the other end!” Rhodey grinned, leaning back and letting himself relax into the couch cushions. Steve had a sneaking suspicion he’d come up with this game on the spot. 

“So, who wants to go first?” 

“I’ll go first.” Bruce said, surprisingly. He was a pretty quiet guy. Not exactly as closed off as Bucky, but he definitely let others carry the conversation and was happy to just listen in. 

Bruce spun the can softly but efficiently, flicking it with his index finger. It spun around a couple times before the butt of it landed on Thor. 

Thor beamed. Ecstatic to be one of the first to have to answer a question. He turned to Bruce, all smiles. Bruce gave Thor a small smile back, and asked his question. 

“So uh, where are you from?” 

Some of the contestants groaned, while others stifled their laughter. Steve rolled his eyes comically. Everyone expected the question to have a little more sustenance, but Steve guessed they all had to start somewhere, get all the awkward, bad questions out of the way before getting to the juicer stuff. 

Thor himself laughed, “I’m from Australia! My brother here is too!” He gestured at Loki, who crossed his arms and frowned, looking away from his brother. 

Bruce however looked taken aback, and he turned to Loki with surprise in his eyes. “Wait you guys are brothers?! How did you both get accepted then?” 

Thor rested his head in his hands, “Well it’s a bit of a long story…” 

The game picked up then, after Thor finished his anecdote and the awkward questions were mostly out of the way, everyone began to unwind. Steve himself felt more comfortable than before, letting himself laugh loudly and make jokes as the game went on. 

It was all fun and games until it was Bucky’s turn to spin. 

He hadn’t even looked like he was paying attention, Natasha having to nudge him in the shoulder to snap him out of his daydream. He shook his head, focused his gaze, and reluctantly reached for the can in the center of the coffee table, which was looking a little more beat up by the minute. 

Bucky flips the can, and it turns for a couple of seconds, before landing on- 

Before of course landing on Steve. 

Bucky’s head shot up to look in his direction, eyes squinted in a glare. He’s looking at Steve like he’s just stepped on his meal and spat in his drink. Steve involuntarily scoffed, unable to help himself as he returned the glare. Neither he nor Bucky had gotten picked to ask or answer questions that evening, so of course the universe had plotted against them on this one. 

Steve shifted in his seat, Bucky mimicked him. Rhodey coughed into his hand. “Right, Bucky! It’s your turn to ask Steve a question.” 

Bucky faced him awkwardly. This is the first time they’ve both had to address each other and be civil about it. Every other time, it’d resulted in an argument. Steve braced himself, expecting the question to be half an insult. 

Instead Bucky asks, “What first got you into baking?” 

Steve is shocked, unable to answer for a moment, because he hadn’t expected for Bucky to actually asking him anything in a tone that didn’t indicate he hated his guts.

He recovers quickly enough and clears his throat. 

“My mom used to love baking. When she Uh, when she died I decided to pick the hobby up.” 

The room went silent, and Steve shifted uncomfortably. It wasn’t like the wound of his mother’s passing was fresh, but admitting it to so many people at once, so casually, felt strange. Bucky doesn’t say anything back, but he nods in acknowledgement and turns away. 

Clint coughs into his arm then clasps his hands. “Well we’re all glad you're here man, you’re a hell of a competitor! It’s going to be fun aiming to beat you.” 

Steve chuckles at that and the energy in the room picks back up. Bruce and Sam agree with Clint, Natasha smirks, and Bucky rolls his eyes (Steve thinks that at this rate their going to fall out of his head), but Steve doesn’t miss the tiny smile playing on his lips. 

“Yeah right Barton. Stevie here just got lucky this week.” Bukcy smirks, and Steve knows it’s just to rile him up. He hates to say it works. 

“Hey what’s that supposed to mean you punk? You’re the one who spent the first 30 minutes just staring off into space today!” And okay, maybe that was a little far because he doesn’t really know what was up with Bucky today, but he figures he said it light-heartedly enough for it to come off as a joke. 

Bucky frowns and just like that they’re back at it again. Bickering in front of the others like a pair of two old men. Steve doesn’t  _ think _ this really counts as another argument, but before Steve can think of yet another comeback, Sam interrupts them.

“Okay enough you weirdos. Let's just get back to the game.” 

Both Steve and Bucky slump back into the couch cushions, almost comically in sync. Natasha snickers into the palm of her hand. Steve still keeps the frown firm on his face. 

But before the next person has a chance to spin the can, Bucky jumps from his seat. He mutters something that sounds like he’s going to bed and gives Natasha an undecipherable look before half-running out the door. 

The whole interaction leaves Steve exhausted. He glances at the clock. It reads a quarter til midnight. The night had crept up on them. 

Steve bites back the yawn that forms in his throat and he too gets up from his all too-comfy seat on the couch. 

“I think I’m gonna head off to bed too, it’s getting late. Thanks for suggesting the get together Rhodey.”

Rhodey nods at him, and it’s Steve’s cue to start making his way toward the door. He doesn’t take more than 10 steps out of the lounge before he’s next to Bucky, and Steve curses himself. Of course he’d see him in the hallway, he’d left only seconds after Bucky had. 

Bucky hears must hear him coming because he turns to see him, Steve can  _ feel  _ the annoyance radiating off of him. 

“what do  _ you _ want now?” 

“nothing you jerk! I’m just going back to my room.” 

Bukcy doesn’t say anything back and opts for ignoring Steve the rest of the way to the elevators that’ll take them to their respective rooms. 

_ Just another minute of this and I don’t have to see him for another week. _ Steve makes sure to glare at the back of Bucky’s head for good measure. 

When they get to the elevators, they both silently step in, Bucky punching in his floor number first. Steve’s about to reach out and do the same, when he realizes that Bucky’s going to the same floor he is. Huh. He didn’t know Bucky was somewhere on the same floor as him. 

Bucky raises his eyebrow at Steve expectantly, but he doesn’t say anything when Steve makes no move to choose his own floor, presumably having come to the same conclusion Steve had. 

They ride up to the 10th floor in awful, awkward silent. Steve fumbles with the hem of his shirt and counts the dings the elevator makes as it goes up each floor. 

Not fast enough, they reach the 10th floor. Steve expects them to part ways here, but he’s surprised to see that Bucky starts walking in the same direction that he needs to go to. 

Steve sighs, he steps out and walks behind Bucky. Somewhere along the halfway mark to Steve’s room (which makes Steve more and more suspicious) Bucky turns so fast Steve almost knocks into him. 

“Why are you following me?!” 

“I’m not following you! My room is this way!” 

Bucky grunts, clearly annoyed, and picks up his pace as he walks faster to his room. Steve slows a bit, letting the distance grow between them, but he when he finally stops at his room, it dawns on him that Bucky’s also stopped. At the door right next to his room. 

Of fucking course. 

Bucky looks at him, bewildered. “Oh you’re kidding me,” 

“You’re tellin’ me pal.” 

“Don’t you  _ pal _ me jerk. This is just my luck huh.” Bucky rests his head against the farm of the doorway. Knocking softly into it.

How Steve didn’t see Bucky come in or out of his room while he was there last night he doesn’t know. They must have missed passing each other in the hallways. Now that he thinks about it, he didn’t even know if there was anyone staying in the room adjacent to his. 

“Look don’t make a big deal out of it, just… don’t make any weird noises or anything okay? I wanna actually get some sleep tonight.” 

“What you think I’m gonna  _ disturb  _ you or somethin’?” Bukcy turns to face him. 

“Maybe? I don-“

Bucky, for the first time, looks at Steve head on, making direct eye contact. His arms are crossed at his chest, and he cocks an eyebrow at Steve. 

“Look  _ Rogers _ , I don’t care what you think of me okay? I don’t care that everything you do is perfect. I don’t know  _ why _ you act like I stepped on your dick all the time. But I  _ will _ beat you in this fucking competition,” 

And Steve almost takes a step back, because this definitely the most Bucky has ever said to him in one go, and he’s not sure where  _ that _ came from, but he’d be damned if he was about to step down from a challenge. 

“Yeah okay, whatever you say Barnes. Just watch,  _ I’m _ going to win this competition, or at least watch you get eliminated before me. It’s  _ on.”  _

They both stand in the hallway for a minute, staring each other down. If this were a movie, Steve thinks, they’d both be reaching for their guns and wearing cowboy hats, an epic stand off between the two rivals. 

At some point however, Bucky rolls his eyes and stands down, arms still crossed, but not glaring at Steve with as much intensity.  _ This guy _ , really, how he managed to look so grumpy all the time Steve didn’t know. 

“Whatever, see you next weekend asshole.” Bucky scoffs, turning on his heel to go to his room, which of course,  _ had _ to be right next to Steve’s, as the universe would have it. 

Bucky all but slams the door shut, leaving Steve standing in the hallway they apparently  _ shared.  _ But whatever, Steve wasn’t a coward, he wasn’t going to throw a fit because his room was next to Bucky’s or anything, not like  _ Bucky  _ almost had. 

Steve opened the door to his own room and walked in, shutting and locking it behind him. He slumped onto the large king-sized bed in the center of the room and sighed. What a fucking day. In the midst of everything, he’d managed to forget that he’d one star baker today. Despite his ongoing feud with Bucky, he’d had an  _ amazing _ weekend. The judges had  _ loved _ his bakes. It made Steve’s chest swell with emotion. 

He smiled to himself and looks down at his own hands. He could do this. He might have a chance at  _ winning _ this damn thing if he tried hard enough. He’s going to make Peggy proud. Make his mom proud. 

Steve lets the rest of his body hit the bed. He feels like he’s sinking into a gigantic marshmallow, the bed he has at home being much stiffer than the one in the guest room. 

He glances at the few belongings he has scattered around the room and groans. If he plans to leave early tomorrow morning, he’s going to have to clean up tonight. He shuts his eyes for a second then opens them, and forces himself to get up and re-pack all his belongings into a small suitcase he’d brought with him at the start of the weekend. 

After he gathers his things, he heads to the bathroom to take a quick shower and brush his teeth, then collapses onto the bed. Steve falls into a dreamless, senseless sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally chapter 2 is here!! i’m so sorry this one took me a bit longer to write it gave me a bit of trouble. i’m hoping to get the next chapter up a lot faster!!!! 
> 
> also a big thank you to anyone who left kudos and comments on the first chapter!! i’m glad you guys are liking this fic!! >:)
> 
> (All mistakes in this fic are my own)


End file.
